


the tedium and beauty of war

by Tedronai



Series: The End of an Age [11]
Category: Wheel of Time - Robert Jordan
Genre: Age of Legends, Gen, Pre-Canon, War of Power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:44:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5535248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tedronai/pseuds/Tedronai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Warfare could get so tedious.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>A Forsaken war council during the War of Power.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the tedium and beauty of war

**Author's Note:**

> UAF Secret Santa fic for adurna0 on Tumblr -- Merry Christmas~! Slightly late, but hey it's still the 25th in America (even if it isn't where I am).

The atmosphere in the room was tense, to say the least. Mesaana busied herself going through the papers in front of her, the contents of which she undoubtedly knew by heart; Aginor muttered to himself, scowling at nothing every now and then; Semirhage had pulled a pair of knitting needles and yarn out of her purse, but her mind was elsewhere and she’d already lost a stitch.

Ishamael looked out of the window over the war camps surrounding the fortress, idly swirling the wine in his glass. With his True Power enhanced vision he could make out the people going about their business in the camps. The sounds did not carry this far, however, and watching the silent picture of bustling activity was oddly relaxing.

Demandred’s forces would even now be closing on D’aru Jhistan, where Ashareth’s army would provide the anvil to his hammer and crush the Light army stationed outside the city in one fell swoop. According to reasonably reliable intel, the city itself was just about ready to surrender and only the presence of the army outside was keeping their resolve from crumbling utterly. Ishamael hoped this was the case; warfare could get so tedious.

“Mesaana,” he said without turning to face the woman.

“Yes, Ishamael?” she replied, her voice tense.

“You will take charge of the city once Demandred sends word that it has fallen.” Meetings like these were a chore, but he could recognise the necessity. For now; for a while longer. “Aginor will assist you.” Soon, if all went according to plans… no more.

There was a quickly stifled sigh of dismay from both parties. “Yes, Ishamael,” Mesaana murmured, while Aginor grunted something that could be interpreted as acquiescence.

Ishamael couldn’t be bothered with disciplinary actions right now so he interpreted it as such. “I trust you know what to do.”

“Of course.” Now there was a note of indignation in Mesaana’s voice, and Ishamael allowed himself a brief smile.

Most of the Chosen stepped lightly around Ishamael, if they didn’t outright fear him, and it was refreshing to be reminded occasionally that they did possess some professional pride. Mesaana was an academic, but she had some management skills and though she might resent the task put before her, she would perform it to the best of her ability. Of course, she would also gain dozens of new students from the children of the conquered city, while Aginor would gain new material to experiment with, as well as fodder for those of his creations that already lived and required sustenance.

And Ishamael would need to waste no further thought on D’aru Jhistan or its residents. A perfectly beneficial arrangement on all sides.

He finally turned around to face the three Chosen, who all seemed to sit up slightly straighter as his gaze fell on them. He ignored the other two and focused on Semirhage, whom he had yet to address. “You will be assisting Mesaana and Aginor in whatever capacity they require.”

The woman’s eyes flared in indignation and anger, while the other two looked vaguely sick. “And why would—?” Semirhage began, but fell silent as Ishamael raised a hand slightly in a warning gesture.

“You got yourself captured,” he observed in a casual, almost bored voice. “Did you not?”

“And I got myself out,” she snapped. _“Did I not?”_ She was gripping her knitting needles so hard they bent out of shape. More stitches slipped loose, but she didn’t notice.

Ishamael nodded, waving her excuses away. “And that is why you will not be punished more severely,” he said. “Consider yourself lucky you’re only being ordered to assist Mesaana and Aginor instead of joining them as a test subject.” That was partly a bluff; the Great Lord would not waste someone of her ability like that.

Nonetheless, the words had the desired effect. Semirhage inhaled sharply, and when she spoke again, her voice trembled slightly. “The Great Lord is merciful.”

Ishamael smiled faintly. “Sometimes,” he agreed. “I would not count on it a second time, were I you.”

The woman shook her head mutely. She unclenched her hands and, frowning distractedly, began straightening the needles. After a moment, however, she gave up and simply sat there, staring blankly at the table.

The silence stretched on. Ishamael drained his glass. Mesaana shuffled her papers. Aginor muttered something so quietly that Ishamael couldn’t hear it even holding the True Power. Ishamael let another two minutes — two long, awkward minutes — crawl by before he set his glass on the windowsill with a clink, startling everybody. “That will be all.”

A heartbeat of stunned indecision, and then the three Chosen were scrambling to make an exit; chairs scraped the floor as they were pushed hastily back, Semirhage abandoned her knitting, Mesaana even took a couple of running steps to reach the door first to avoid being left alone with Ishamael.

Once they were gone, Ishamael poured himself another glass of wine and returned to the window. An explosion briefly lit the horizon and when it faded, a pillar of smoke rose against the pale purple of the perpetual twilight that was near the Bore. Ishamael watched, fascinated. Warfare could be tedious, but it did have its beauty as well. It was almost a pity this would all come to an end soon.

_ Almost. _


End file.
